


Malfoy: Unknown

by MzMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Deathly Hallows AU, F/M, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzMalfoy/pseuds/MzMalfoy
Summary: When our 3 heroes are captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, the only way Harry and Ron can escape Voldemort is to abandon Hermione... her rescue comes from an unexpected savior. Follows canon up until they're captured by the Snatchers in DH.





	1. On My Own

And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
without a home, without a friend, without a face to say hello to

Hermione woke up slowly, every inch of her body aching. Through the pain she felt plush cushions, soft fabrics… and confusion. They'd been camping, on the run for months so where was she? She peeled open grit filled and swollen eyes to see a small room bathed in a soft pre-dawn glow. It appeared to be a small, personal library or study. It was elegantly furnished with dark woods, rich fabrics, a thick rug on the floor, and walls lined with bookshelves. The light was too dim to be able to discern real colors; everything was just various shades of darkness. She was lying on a large sofa across from a fireplace and a pair of comfortable looking chairs. How did she end up in a room whose obvious purpose was comfort? She made to turn her head toward the window to look through the gap between the curtains, hoping to recognize something but at the tiny movement her head spun and her eyes watered at the pain that radiated from the top of her head, down her neck and into her shoulders. She lay still a moment, eyes clenched tight trying to stop the groan the pain was forcing through her lips: she didn't know where she was or what would happen if her presence were noticed. As she lay there she tried to think back about what in the world could've happened to her. Yesterday… they were camping in yet another forest. Ron had finally tuned into Potterwatch and they had listened, with relief and joy, to the familiar voices of Fred, George, Lupin, and Kingsley. Her eyes sprang open and she clamped her hand over her mouth to cover her gasp of shock as she remembered what had happened after: Harry had said You-Know-Who's name! He had violated the Taboo! It all came flooding back to her: the memories of the Snatchers and Greyback discovering their identities and finding the sword of Gryffindor. Her breath came in gasps as she envisioned being bound and taken to Malfoy Manor… she remembered the whispered conversation she'd managed to have with Harry before they were hauled into the mansion.

_"Harry", she whispered urgently, "Listen to me; you have to get away if you can." She continued as he opened his mouth to argue, "No! I mean it; if any of us can get away we have to. We three are the only ones who know about the Horcruxes! If none of us makes it out of here, no one else knows how to kill him. He'll win. He'll kill every one we love!" Her voice broke on the last word. She tried to judge by his expression what his thoughts were but the darkness was too much and his face still too contorted from her stinging jinx._

_"Hermione…." Harry began, still processing what she had said. He leaned his head on her shoulder as though barely conscious as a Snatcher moved close to them "You're right about no one else knowing, but there's still a chance we can get away!"_

_"I know that," she muttered against his ear, "but the chances are not good! Promise me that if you and Ron can get away you will, or you and me, or just you. At least one of us has to make it out of here. Promise me that you won't risk being recaptured by coming back to try to save me or Ron!" Harry didn't immediately respond but she counted that as a good thing, thinking that if he was taking a moment to answer her then he was seriously considering this. He had to know she wasn't trying to be a martyr, but for the love of Merlin, one of them- Harry if possible, absolutely had to get out. "This is bigger than any of the three of us, Harry. Promise me." After another pause Harry answered,_

_"Okay. I promise, you promise me the same thing. Do not give yourself up as some kind of distraction or bargaining chip- they'll never take you anyways, it's me he wants." She nodded against his cheek._

_"Tell Ron. Make him promise," she paused, taking a shaky breath. During their whispered conversation they'd come through the gates of Malfoy Manor and were approaching the doors. Before Harry could turn his head she whispered hurriedly, knowing it might be the last chance she had, "You're the bravest man I know, Harry. You're my best friend and I love you." She pressed her lips to his swollen forehead and he shifted and pressed his cheek against hers for a moment before allowing his head to loll toward Ron, still keeping up the pretense that he was barely conscious so their captors would remain ignorant of their desperate communications. ___

__As she lay as still and quiet as possible on the sofa she tried to connect the dots from that conversation with Harry to where she was now, surely she should be in a dungeon or something…. As she concentrated she began getting flashes of what happened after they were ushered into the Malfoy's opulent home. She saw flashes of Lucius and Narcissa peering closely into their faces, especially Harry's, trying to confirm their identities, she saw Draco shrug and walk away toward the fireplace. Her memory was very choppy and distorted, but then she remembered why. _She _had come in. Bellatrix Lestrange had entered the room and immediately recognized the three of them. But then she was distracted by the sword. Her stomach clenched as memories of what came next surfaced. Hermione remembered trying to stand her ground and not show fear as Harry and Ron were dragged down into the cellar and she watched, barely breathing, as Bellatrix closed in on her. From this point her memories were hazy and indistinct: all she remembered was interminable pain. Her eyes closed and a tear leaked from beneath her lashes as she recalled a sensation that seemed like her very bones were going to catch fire. What Bellatrix screamed at her she did not know. If she was able to answer her, she did not know.___ _

____Bellatrix had tortured her and then… she'd woken up on this sofa. Something obviously happened in the interim. How had she gotten here? There was no way she could've escaped: her body felt as though she'd been tortured to within an inch of her life, perhaps she had been. She sat up slowly trying to ignore the pounding of her head and the stiffness in her neck, and felt a soft blanket pool around her waist, had someone covered her up? That was disconcerting. Only Harry would've done that, but she couldn't see how they could've escaped to somewhere like this. She grimaced at the ache as she turned her head to survey more of the room; she saw a candelabrum on the end table with a snake elaborately engraved in the silver and that confirmed her suspicions: she was still inside Malfoy Manor._ _ _ _

____She made to move her legs to put her feet on the floor but the pain was too terrible. The shooting pain that had nearly brought her to tears when she first turned her head returned and shot down her left hip. She couldn't hold back the whimper this time and she gave up and slowly lowered herself back to the cushions. She lay still for a moment, trying to gather her strength but she suddenly she heard soft footsteps on the other side of the door. She watched with trepidation as the handle turned. 'Oh not Bellatrix, please not Bellatrix' was the only thought her terrified mind could muster. Slowly from around the door came a flash of nearly white hair. Her face paled as she stared into the cold blue eyes of Draco Malfoy._ _ _ _


	2. Master of the House

She was shocked to see Malfoy, but surprisingly felt a small measure of relief: he was probably the Death Eater least likely to torture her on the spot. Humiliate her? Yes. Torture her? Eh, maybe not.

"Granger." He said mildly when their eyes met. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. She was again surprised at his attire; he appeared to be dressed in black linen pajama trousers and a black t-shirt. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising he was dressed in nightclothes given that the sun had yet to fully rise. She also noticed he was barefooted, which made her uncomfortable on top of her fear… something about seeing someone in their pajamas and bare feet was so intimate.

"Malfoy" she tried to reply in the same bored tone, but it took her two attempts to get any sound through a throat that felt as though she'd swallowed angry bees. When it did come, her voice sounded as though she'd aged fifty years and smoked fifty years' worth of muggle cigarettes overnight. She winced as her throat worked to say those two simple syllables. It burned. It occurred to her that she probably screamed her throat raw while Bellatrix… tortured her. It was hard to even think those words. She turned her attention back to Malfoy who still stood watching her. She thought about sitting up again so she wouldn't feel so vulnerable or appear weak, but didn't think she had the strength or energy to combat the pain. Her head was throbbing, she could feel her heartbeat inside her skull, and each time she inhaled the left side of her back hurt just a little bit worse. Maybe a broken rib or two? She'd have to be careful or risk puncturing a lung.

After a moment's contemplation Malfoy moved into the room and took one of the arm chairs across from her sofa. "How badly are you hurt?" he asked in a quiet voice with a look she'd never seen before. She paused before answering trying to decipher his expression and mood, and debating how to answer. Would he mock her and tell her she deserved every bit of pain his aunt had given her? Would he report her injuries to Bellatrix or other Death Eaters so they would know what her weaknesses were? Really, did it matter? She had no wand; she had no way of fighting back. She was too injured to even think about escaping. But in the midst of those anxieties she remembered Draco refusing to positively identify them last night. Why had he done that? A moment of mercy out of Draco Malfoy? For her? She supposed stranger things had happened, though there had to have been a self-serving motivation there.

"I don't know," she finally replied, deciding to be honest. "I've barely tried to move, but when I have it's been quite unpleasant." He looked at her another moment and replied

"Unpleasant? You're the queen of understatement. My aunt tortured you for nearly an hour last night." He continued after a moment's hesitation, "I mended cuts on your arms and one on your face…another on your throat, a broken pinky finger- I believe she stomped on it- and a busted lip. Those were all the visible wounds that I could see." He took a breath and turned his gaze from his feet to her face, "I healed any internal damage to your organs, and gave you a Blood Replenishing Potion." He watched her eyes widen as he listed her injuries and the measures he'd taken to heal her. Why would he do that? "She kicked you, like one would a dog," He replied quietly, as much to himself as to her. "Repeatedly, in the stomach. But if you have any other injuries, I wasn't able to heal them. I only gave you a small dose of Skelegro for the finger, you may need more if you've got any other breaks."

She lay there unable to respond. She just stared into his blue, almost silver, eyes and could not for the life of her figure out why he would have healed her. The comment comparing her to a dog was much more along the lines of what she expected from him. Several moments passed when his impatience show and he roughly asked "Well Granger? Where the hell else are you hurt?"

"A rib, at least one. On my left side. My left hip and my head and neck are also quite painful." She gasped out in a hurried whisper, why did he care?

Malfoy stood and stepped forward until he towered over her. He raised his wand and ignoring her flinch of fear, moved it over her hip with an intense look on his face. Suddenly her hip warmed and she squeezed her eyes tight as the sensation grew until it was uncomfortably hot. Was he hurting her on purpose? Apparently he was quite good at nonverbal spells, because he said nothing so she was in the dark about what he was actually doing to her. Just as the pain got to the point she was about to beg him to stop, it eased.

"Better?" He asked bluntly. She moved her leg wearily and yes, it was. She gave a slight nod, still wary. "Just soft tissue damage, you'll need to take it easy for a couple of days though. Can you point to which ribs are broken?" He asked in the same quiet tone. His demeanor was throwing her for a loop and making her nervous, unable to discern his motivation or what his end goal was. She nodded and tried to shift her position to roll over to give him access to her bruised or broken rib, but gasped and clutched for his arm in a reflex action. She froze and waited for the pain to lessen as it did she realized that she had grabbed onto him and quickly let go, her eyes shooting up to his, waiting for some look of disgust, for him to wipe his hand off and make some remark about contaminating him with her dirty mudblood hand. To her shock he did none of those things, and if it had been anyone else she might've felt guilty about snide tone that her inner thoughts had taken... but it was Malfoy. Instead he slowly sat on the cushion next to her.

"Shall I point and you say when?" he held his wand up at her waist and slowly moved toward her shoulder on the side she had mentioned. He looked into her eyes, waiting for her to nod to let him know where the break was. She was having trouble concentrating; he had never really looked her in the eye before, certainly never without a smirk or hatred on his pale face. She noticed that his face was gaunt, even more so than last year at Hogwarts. There were dark circles under his eyes and his collarbones were very prominent. It looked as though he hadn't eaten well in months. She made an affirmative noise when he reached the painful area. He raised an eyebrow as though to confirm the location and she nodded again. She watched his face gain intensity as his magic stirred, it became more chiseled and his eyes darkened. She filed away his ability to perform healing charms nonverbally; that was a thought for another day.  
"Two broken. Let me get you some Skelegrow." He summoned a vial and waited patiently for her to sit up enough to drink the potion. "Lay as still as you can for the next couple of hours. I'd tell you to try to get some sleep, but it's going to be fairly painful. You can have something for pain in about an hour. I'll be back then." He stood and made his way to the door, and she stared after him, nonplussed. He paused and spoke over his shoulder, "Try not to make any noise, Granger, I'd hate for you to get us killed."

He'd been right about the pain. For the next hour she lay as still as possible, passing the time keeping her breaths low and slow and gritting her teeth against the needle-sharp flashes of painful healing. True to his word he came back with a vial of pain relieving potion; she was sure she'd never been so happy to see Malfoy in her life. They didn't speak, he merely gave her the potion and a glass of water and retreated through the door with the empty vial when she was finished. She didn't really have time to ponder his actions as the blissful absence of pain and exhaustion dragged her under. 

 

She started awake some indeterminate amount of time later at the sound of the door closing. The angle of the sun seemed to indicate midday. They watched each other for a moment: suspicion, fear, and perhaps a little wonder in her eyes, and his completely unreadable, but without a trace of the smirk that usually marred his features.

"The Skelegro should be out of your system enough to move on. That leaves your head and neck I believe?" He asked. She made an affirmative noise- still in too much pain to nod and still confused and worried about what his motives were. Why would Malfoy take the time to heal her? "Well I have a potion for your head, but I think your neck is probably just strained…"he paused, swallowed and continued quietly, "She had your head pulled back by your hair. I thought she was going to slit your throat right there in the drawing room." He opened his mouth to continue, but checked himself at the last moment. Instead he silently unstoppered a vial and passed it to her, she accepted it reluctantly. "Do you need help sitting up?" He asked after a moment, his tone still flat but lacking any malice.

"Oh… no, no I don't thi-" She tried to sit up but the pounding in her head increased exponentially, her body exhausted from the ordeal and then the healing on top of it.

"Here… just enough to drink without drowning in it." Her shock reached its highest level yet as he took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand beneath her shoulders and every so gently eased her into a sitting position and held her there while she swallowed the potion, gratefully.  
She lay back down after downing the contents of the vial, deciding if it were poison it would probably save her from a worse fate once Bellatrix found her again, plus Malfoy seemed to have no malicious intent…. Which was still bloody strange.

"Thank you," she croaked and slumped back to the pillows with a grimace. "Malfoy… why are you doing this?" she asked slowly, unable to curb her curiosity.

"For a lot of reasons," he responded eventually and did not elaborate. "I'm going to get a house elf to bring me something to eat. Do you think you could eat something?" He asked changing the subject before she could ask him anything.

"Yes, I think so. My head is feeling better already" she responded.

"Anything in particular?" he asked. Her unease kept increasing at their ever interaction, he had never treated her with even basic civility and now he was healing her and waiting on her, it was unsettling in the extreme. She was here against her will, held captive after being tortured half to death and he wanted to take her breakfast order?

"Um, no. I haven't had a decent meal in so long I'll be happy with anything," she replied honestly. When was the last time she'd had a full meal? It had been a long time since they'd ventured close enough to civilization to sneak into a muggle store or house for food.

"That's what I figured; you're skin and bones, Granger. You were light as a feather when I carried you in here last night." With that he turned and walked through the door, leaving it ajar.  
She froze, her exhausted brain grinding into gear: Malfoy carried her in here? He put her into bed and covered her up? She wiggled her toes; he'd even taken her shoes off. She already knew he'd healed her some during the night… she glanced at her arm and her eyes widened in shock as she saw the number of thin white scars there, but there was no blood on her clothing or the blankets. Had he cleaned her up also? This was madness. She was in some parallel universe where Malfoy was nice and maybe the sky was pink, there were two suns and Dumbledore was a moron. Who carries a captive up to bed and tucks them in? She heard Malfoy speak to someone in the next room but couldn't make out the words. He came back in bearing a tray laden with enough food to feed even Ron.

"Alright, Granger. I don't know what you like so I just had Trixie bring double my usual order. I instructed her not to tell anyone. The last thing we need is for Bellatrix to find out I gave you breakfast." He said as he pulled a small table over between the chair and couch and sat the tray down. "Do you think you can sit up?" he asked, appraising her. She was still lying on her back, staring at him, mostly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I think so." This time she was more successful and slowly sat up, feeling no sharp pain, just the ache of abused muscles and stiff joints. She knew he was powerful and intelligent but apparently he knew his healing spells better than she did. Few wizards, especially young ones, bothered with them. Who'd have thought? "Do you think I could have some tea? My throat…" She began, but he was already pouring.

Draco watched her eat; every now and then she pressed a finger to her lower lip where Bellatrix had split it. He hadn't healed it very well apparently. Well not bloody surprising seeing as how he was using his mother's wand. Saint Potter had buggered off with his. Damn him. Now Draco was in the middle of a war and was having to ask to borrow his mummy's wand. As if his life wasn't humiliating and miserable enough. He watched as after a bite or two she began eating with an urgency he'd never seen from her. Usually it was Weaselbee that was disgusting at the table. But, instead of disgust he felt pity. He remembered how light she'd been and how he'd been able to feel all her ribs when he'd carried her into the room last night.

"Slow down, Granger. You'll toss it if you keep eating that fast. I'm not going to take it away before you finish, I promise." He tried to work up a sneer but it didn't come, instead his words came out quiet and gentle and he could see her face flush. Well maybe she'd think of her embarrassment instead of how uncharacteristically nice he was being. What was wrong with him? Merlin help him if he was developing a soft spot for Granger.

"You aren't eating." Hermione observed as she reached for her tea. She held his gaze, her eyes having finally cleared of the glazed look they'd held all morning. He didn't respond, he just reached for a plate and scooped some eggs and fruit onto it. They ate for a few moments in silence. He realized that this was the most pleasant meal he'd had in a while. He didn't have to listen to scheming or plotting or boastful talk of cruelty. Or deal with that damn snake slithering underneath his chair… he shivered at the thought. Fucking snake.

"Malfoy…," Hermione began hesitantly, her eyes focused resolutely on her toast, "Will you tell me if Harry got away?" He studied her a moment, until she looked up at him, unable to stand the wait.

"Potter and the Weasel both Disapparated." He responded with no inflection. "They left you and buggered off." He watched her shoulders slump and her eyes flutter shut in what appeared to be relief. Was she glad they left her? That made no sense. "You seem relieved. You're glad they left you bloodied and broken on the floor, surrounded by Death Eaters, with the Dark Lord at the door?" he demanded. Why this made him so angry he wasn't sure. He was shocked at Potter's actions though, he couldn't believe he had abandoned her and taken off. Didn't Potty love to play hero?

"I'm glad that they managed to get away, yes. Would I rather they hadn't left me? …I don't know. If leaving me was the only way they could get safely away then yes, I'm glad they did." She slowly ate a few more bites of her breakfast. "Will you tell me what happened? I don't really remember anything after she started…" she trailed off, apparently not wanting to say 'torturing me'.

"She wanted to know how you came to be in possession of the Sword of Gryffindor." He paused and studied her… he was quite curious about this as well. "You managed to convince her it was a fake." He watched as her face paled.

"Did… I… w-what happened to it?" She stammered. Some poker face, Granger, he thought to himself with a smirk. He couldn't fathom how Bellatrix had believed her. She wouldn't be worried about a fake Sword of Gryffindor.

"Well, it was chaos, but last I saw it the goblin had it and Potter took him along when he Disapparated." He watched her like a hawk. She maintained eye contact but she released the death grip she had on her fork, blood returning to knuckles that had turned white.

"How did you get it?" He asked quietly. "It's supposed to be in her vault in Gringotts." She looked him dead in the eye and answered,

"How did we get a fake Sword of Gryffindor? I conjured it; you know I'm best in our year at charms. It was driving me barmy, just the three of us for so long. I did it to pass the time, took me days to get it right." He knew she was lying, well about the sword. He was sure she was bored with only Potter and Weasel-bee for company.

"Sure thing, Granger." He said, his smirk firmly back in place for the comment. "We'll leave it there for now. Well anyway, she went at you for… Merlin, it felt like hours, but you stuck to your story." In his mind's eye he could see her writhing on the floor and he could still hear her screams. Bellatrix kept at it until she was too weak to respond. He hadn't been able to tear his eyes away as he watched blood seep out of the slices made with Bellatrix's short knife. She just lay still and silent on the rug, her face completely white, barely breathing, eyes rolled back in her head. He could barely stomach it the night before and it wasn't any easier now. He'd had to resist the compulsion to throw himself bodily over top of her to stop Bellatrix. He had no idea why he felt so strongly; he'd seen plenty of people tortured in that very room. He'd been forced to do some of it himself. But he couldn't believe that he had watched a member of his own family torture a half-starved, innocent, seventeen year old girl. He couldn't think of a word bad enough to describe his hatred at being related to such people. Well bollocks to that, as soon as he could think of a way, he was out this mess.

He continued after a moment, "The goblin confirmed your story and told her it was a fake. Then… she summoned Him." He absently rubbed his left forearm as he stared into the cold fireplace, remembering. "Somehow Potter and Weasley found a way out of the cellar and burst into the room… Apparently they managed to kill Pettigrew and had his wand. It was madness… but Potter and Weasel managed to Disarm everyone in the room. He got away with a couple wands actually, including mine, the bastard." Still staring into space he missed Hermione's reaction to hearing that Harry had gotten away with a wand, her eyes closed for a moment as if saying a silent prayer. She opened them and watched his face as he continued. 

"But Bellatrix was determine to have the upper hand of course… she pulled your head up off the floor by your hair and put her knife to your throat." He paused to clear his throat and took a deep breath, trying to get the vision out of his mind and stop acting like he even cared- which he didn't. "Potter and Weasley were about to throw down their wands when our old house elf shows up and drops the bloody chandelier on Bellatrix… and on you as she was standing over you." He was utterly bewildered at Dobby's involvement, Draco didn't have the first clue as to what he'd been doing there, he hadn't seen the elf in years. "Potter shouted something about the Dark Lord being at the gate, how he knew I've got no idea, but it was pandemonium. He shouted for you, I think. Potter. But you were too far gone to respond much less try to get yourself away. He shouted to Weasley that they were out of time… After he, Weasley, Dobby, and the goblin Disapparated everyone panicked. It didn't take us more than a second to realize that when the Dark Lord came in and saw that Potter had gotten away, again, we were done for. There was a mad scramble for the door; I grabbed you and Disapparated with you to my room. I got in just in time; as soon as I laid you down I could hear him screaming, cursing everyone who was left in the room. Luckily he doesn't think very much of me, because he didn't think to call me back to the drawing room… my parents, Bellatrix, Greyback and all those moron snatchers are probably feeling worse than you are this morning. Well, he killed the snatchers, but my family survived… for better or worse I don't know. I don't think he remembered I existed, he was too furious to think straight, which I'm quite pleased about. Obviously." He looked over at her, and her face was ashen.

"So he… and Bellatrix… your parents, do they know I'm here?" she asked in a shocked, hoarse whisper.

"No. I don't think they do. What does he care about a mudblood anyway?" He watched her wince at the term, seriously, she should be used to that, hadn't he been calling her that for like six years now? Though he had stopped the last couple of years, as he began to question his parents' stance on blood purity. "Well, he would care I suppose… you would make excellent bait for The Boy Who Lived."

"Are you going to tell them then?" She asked, her fear moving towards anger and she straightened her posture despite her discomfort. Apparently she didn't enjoy being at his mercy, he smirked at the thought but his face soon fell into a more thoughtful expression.

"No, Granger, I don't reckon I am." How could he turn her over to them? Not that he gave a single damn about her, of course not, but did she deserve Bellatrix's or the Dark Lord's wrath? No. No one really did. He felt a little shame at the way he'd thought and behaved as little as a year ago. What did these people think would happen if they wiped out all the muggleborns? There were very few purebloods that he wasn't related to; very few options for witches for him to marry; in another generation or two they'd run out of purebloods who weren't first cousins twice over. They needed to get over it and marry half bloods and perhaps even muggleborns just to sustain a population. Bloody idiots, the lot of them. Did they really have so little foresight? They'd been interbreeding for long enough as it was, it wouldn't take many more generations for them to start being born cross-eyed squibs and Merlin knew what else. Plus, the more he'd though about it over the last year, the more he wondered what about coming from wizard parents made him any better than Granger coming from muggle parents. She was just as powerful, just as- if not more, intelligent than he was. If she was pureblooded he'd offer for her in a heartbeat, despite her snooty ways. She wasn't trophy wife material, but if a wizard wanted intelligent children there wouldn't be a better choice. Too bad she wasn't better looking. He raised his head to study her. She was easily fifteen pounds underweight. Her skin marred with bruises and dark circles under her eyes, her ridiculous hair was as bushy as ever…well he assumed it would be once she let it out of her braid, her buck teeth were… gone? He looked at her mouth where she was biting her lip in thought and noticed that her teeth were straight and even. Huh. When had that happened? She felt his gaze and glanced up at him, warm brown eyes meeting his cool blue ones.

"Why?" She asked.

Why what? He wondered, having completely lost the conversation in his musings. "Why don't I turn you over to my evil aunt and the Dark Lord you mean?" he asked, she nodded. "Well…. For a lot of reasons" he echoed his earlier reply.

"I guess you aren't going to elaborate. Well then… what now?" she asked him.

"I haven't quite worked that out yet. I got home 2 days ago for Easter break so we've got almost 2 weeks before we have to get you out of here." It disturbed him that he kept saying 'we'. He didn't want to have a 'we' with Granger. He wanted to get away from her for a little while, he didn't like this softening he felt towards her. "I'm going to leave you for now, but let me show you something first." He came around to a bookshelf to the right of the window. "I've put an Undetectable Extension Charm on this space behind the shelf. To get back there you just pull out Frankenstein and-"

"You read muggle fiction?" Hermione cut him off, shocked.

"Occasionally. I have to say though, I'm not sure if I enjoyed this book. It's kind of depressing really… Frankenstein's monster is actually inherently good, compassionate even… Frankenstein turns him evil by rejecting him even when he does everything he can to better himself… he even learns to speak. But Frankenstein refuses to acknowledge him…." Draco trailed off, Hermione look at him aghast. "Anyway," he cleared his throat, a little embarrassed by that tangent. He continued before she could side track him any further… he'd talked more to her this morning than he had to his family in the last year nearly. It made him itchy. "Pull out the book and the book case will slide out from the wall and reveal a small chamber behind it. No one knows it's there but me… and now you. Hopefully no one will come in, my mother knows I hate it if she lets herself into my room and my father never bothers to come down this wing anyway, but if you hear anything strange get back there as quick as you can and I'll get you when the coast is clear."

"Okay." She agreed quietly. "I'm quite exhausted to tell you the truth… d'you think that I should sleep in there instead of out in the open?" Draco thought about it for a moment.

"I think for today you'll be fine. Everyone else is recovering, too, so they'll be holed up in their chambers as well. This is my personal space; it's extremely unlikely that anyone will come in… I just wanted to show you that… in case." He started to go but turned back, thinking of how she'd been living lately. "Actually, Granger…. This sounds… strange. But if you'd like to have a bath you can. I have a private bathroom. I can shrink some of my clothes for you so you can have something clean to wear. I'd rather not have my couch smell like a homeless person to be honest." He hadn't really noticed any odor from her, but he had to add it because the rest of it made him feel like he was going soft. He watched the fire light in her eyes when he insulted her but then he saw as her thoughts shifted to how welcome a hot bath would be after living rough for so long, and then being tortured last night. "Come on, I'll show you."

**Author's Note:**

> Do we really need disclaimers at this point? I'm not JKR, not matter how hard I wish, anything you recognize is hers.


End file.
